Page 71 of Unseen Danger

She reached for a phone in her pocket but felt the flat side of her pajama pants instead. No pocket. No phone.

She headed back inside, making sure to lock the door and arm the security system behind her.

Cannenta greeted her outside the bedroom, concern in her hesitant tail wag and cautious stare. “It’s okay, girl. Some jerk thought he could scare me by being a creep, I guess.” She bent to give Cannenta a quick pet as she passed through the doorway.

Nevaeh grabbed her phone off the nightstand and navigated to the saved numbers. She tapped Phoenix’s name.

No way had she imagined the guy this time. Her paranoia hadn’t created this or the previous night she’d seen the truck. Or the time he’d followed her on the freeway. Maybe the sense she was being watched hadn’t been off either.

The comfort in that realization only lasted a second. Because it also meant the threat was very real.

Maybe he should call her. The thought that had nearly made Branson reach for his phone last night to call Nevaeh made him lower the weights in his hands now.

He looked at his smartphone he’d set on the stand near the door that held a water dispenser and towels.

The feeling something was wrong or about to go wrong hadn’t left him even after a night of sleep. A very shortened night.

His standard morning workout was harder than normal today, thanks to trimming his hours by staying up late to greet the Phoenix K-9 team every evening and the worry about Nevaeh that had kept him awake for a while last night.

He’d ultimately decided that praying for her would be safer than calling. She may not even want to talk to him after he’d witnessed her PTSD episode. She may be more uncomfortable than ever with him now.

The thought thickened his throat. Not conducive to getting enough air for the incline dumbbell fly he was doing.

A ring in his ear signaled the call he’d been waiting for. He sat up fully and glanced at his phone to verify the caller ID.

“Hey, Andrew.”

“Branson. Couldn’t believe it when you said five thirty instead. I’m already halfway through my workout.”

Branson chuckled as he set one dumbbell on the floor. “Yeah. Too many late nights.”

“Burning the candle at both ends?”

“Something like that.”

“Is it the situation with your client?”

“That’s part of it.” Branson briefed his mentor on the fireworks scare yesterday as he lay back on the bench and began reps of the single-arm fly. “The fact that his kids were there seemed to shake D-Chop’s confidence in me. It’s the first time he’s openly questioned my work or wondered if I can handle it.”

“But he didn’t say your job was on the line, did he?”

“No. He did bring on more protection for his kids today, though. Nevaeh Williams.” His pulse thrummed as he said her name. “One of the Phoenix K-9 patrol teams. I don’t have a problem with her at all.” Quite the opposite. He sat up and tried to keep his thoughts in check so they wouldn’t affect his voice and make Andrew suspicious he had feelings for her. “She’s very capable, and I can see why D-Chop would want her and her K-9 with the children.”

“But?”

Branson sighed. “It’s not a good sign he feels he needs to add to my security team and recommendations.” He slid his hand over his hair. “Dad needs the money I make so badly right now, and I need to look good to investors. This whole thing with D-Chop and his wife—he has women coming in and out of here like a…well, a lot. His wife has some weird reality show that my security staff tell me about. I can’t even believe some of the stuff she says and does on there, according to them. And that’s after six years in this business. Which is feeling like five years too many.” He lay back on the bench and switched the dumbbell to his left hand.

Andrew didn’t say anything, letting a silence fall across the line.

Branson cringed at how much he’d dumped on him. But given that Andrew had mentored him since he was twelve, the man had heard far longer tirades before.

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself.” Andrew’s tone was thoughtful, and Branson could picture the way his graying, thick eyebrows probably dipped as lines crossed his brow. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last time and about your corporate security plan. If you’re able to get the investors you need, are you sure corporate security, having your own firm, is what you’re really looking for?”

The question nearly knocked the wind from Branson’s lungs. He quickly lowered the dumbbell to the floor before he dropped it on himself. He sat up and took a deep breath before trying to answer. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What if the celebrity aspect isn’t the problem? Or not the only problem.”

Uneasiness gurgled in Branson’s gut. Why, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even understand what Andrew was getting at. “What else could it be?”